


Saint Judith’s Retreat for Women and Girls Seeking Enrichment

by VSSAKJ



Category: Tales of Series, Tales of Vesperia
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tales of Femslash Week 2017
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-11-21 02:36:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11348109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VSSAKJ/pseuds/VSSAKJ
Summary: Also known as: St. Judy’s Lesbian Paradise.





	1. Welcome to the Temple

**Author's Note:**

> An assortment of explicit femslash written for Tales of Femslash week! I am hoping to post all parts of this during the week itself, but I may not be that talented. This is just for fun, so don't stress the details too much. Enjoy!

_An inscription is set in stone, at the peak of marble stairs winding up to a lone temple. The sound of wind rustling through the trees travels alongside the slightly salted smell of the sea, both nearby and distant. The tablet glows faintly, making it legible day or night—it draws the eye, demanding to be read._

Welcome to Saint Judith’s Retreat for Women and Girls Seeking Enrichment. We are grateful you’ve journeyed here and trust you’ve arrived in good health. Whether your spirit be light or heavy, we are certain you will enjoy your time with us. Stay as long as you desire.

Please observe the following house rules:  
\- You must always have permission.  
\- You must always permit the pleasures of others, even if they are not to your taste.

And finally…  
\- For women only.

Please, enjoy your stay.


	2. Vesperia, Estelle/Rita: First Time

They’d been separated upon their arrival in the temple. Estelle folded her dress neatly and stood, hands twisted together in front of her. The clean, cream-coloured robe they’d given her fit fine, but it was slim and form-fitting, and she felt much more exposed than in her usual attire. The flat sandals were comfortable, and the robe was loose, comfortable, and cool, much better in these warm corridors than her bulky layers.

“Have you changed” The aide who’d taken charge of her asked from without.

“Yes! I’m sorry.” Estelle tucked her hair behind her ear and stepped out from the changing room.

The aide smiled at her and gestured for Estelle to follow. Estelle found her eyes travelling up the aide’s body as they walked; the aide was much taller than her, with a cascade of navy blue hair and exposed shoulders. The aide’s robe was even shorter than hers, Estelle realised—that was a comfort, but it also made her cheeks warm.

Instead of engaging with _that_ thought, she queried, “Um… can you tell me where Rita is?”

“You’ll see her soon.” The aide replied, leading on down another corridor. They walked down warm stone halls, with a gentle breeze playing over their feet. Every so often, they passed rich, heavy tapestries and curtains—Estelle wished she could stop and examine them closer, but the aide kept up a quick pace.

Finally, they seemed to arrive: the aide drew aside a curtain to reveal a bench like the one she’d changed in front of, and a certain to the other side of it. Lowly, the aide spoke, “Saint Judith likes to welcome all visitors personally, especially on their first time. She will not be long. Wait here for her.”

“Okay…” Estelle dipped her head, folded her hands over her lap, and settled in. 

“What?!”

“Rita?” Estelle leapt to her feet, looking around.

“What was that!?”

Rita’s voice came again, and Estelle clasped her hands over her mouth. Rita didn’t sound hurt, just surprised—it would be so rude and untoward if she interrupted Rita’s visit with Saint Judith herself. Estelle stood completely still until she heard a soothing voice wafting through the curtains.

“It came from another room, I think. Please answer my question, Rita. Have you?”

“Why should I tell you?” Rita sounded frustrated, and very near by, so Estelle dared to examine the curtains surrounding her, looking for a place where the hanging fabric parted.

Saint Judith’s voice was still very calm. “Because it will allow me to give you an appropriate resolution to your situation.”

“I”m not in any situation.” Rita snapped just as Estelle found a gap in the curtains through which she could peer; Rita’s face was very red.

“All right then. You may leave.” Estelle watched Rita rocked in place, making no motion to do as requested. Judith sounded like she was smiling when she went on. “So there are things you want to know.”

“Yeah. I want to know… I wanna… make Estelle happy.”

“Oh Rita…” Estelle murmured to herself, twining her fingers together over her heart.

“I should think you already do.” Judith said.

 _‘Yes!’_ Estelle thought, smiling.

Rita kept her arms crossed. “Yeah but not the way _you’d_ make her happy.”

“Intimately?”

“You don’t have to say it!” Rita snapped again, going redder than Estelle had thought possible. Estelle felt herself going pink too—she knew better than to listen to this. It was a private conversation, and it was so inappropriate for her to be here overhearing. But she’d been brought here and told to wait, and didn’t know where else to go...

She still couldn’t see Judith, but she sounded like a cat promised its favorite fish for supper. “I understand you’re scientifically inclined, Rita. Why not experiment?”

“That’s not how it works.” Rita retorted, refusing to meet Judith’s gaze as her face burned. “You need to know where to start if you’re going to get anywhere. In science or…”

“In sex.” Judith agreed; this time, Rita didn’t argue the specifics, but she did mutter something under her breath. There was a rustling sound, and Estelle shuffled around to see that Judith leaned back in plump cushion and spread her knees, revealing that she wore no undergarments. Estelle almost yelped—but held herself back at the last second. What was going in?

Trailing a pair of fingers lightly down her inner thigh, Judith asked, “Why not start in the same place you would with yourself?”

“I don’t—” Rita bit her lip—and, behind the curtain, Estelle did too, feeling her heartbeat quicken. Squirming with visible discomfort, Rita admitted lowly, “I’ve never.”

“Hmm.” Judith’s response was a soft noise, nonjudgemental and kind. “I could teach you. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Estelle didn’t hear Rita reply, but heard Judith go on. When had she closed her eyes? Why was she so hot? “I can teach you.”

“Teach me how to touch myself.” Rita replied dully, sounding self-deprecating.

“It’s fun.” Judith teased. Estelle heard her exhale deeply, and imagined she was… beginning. “Approach it like a problem with blastia. First, you need to identify the areas of interest.”

“Areas of interest…” Estelle heard Rita echo. It sounded like the right place to start; if she were trying to be intimate with herself or Rita, she… Estelle’s fingers traced their way up from the hem of her skirt to cup her small breasts through the thin robe. She’d never really taken the time to feel them before—they were small and firm, with a gentle curve that sat nicely in her palm. Even through her robe, they felt inviting, and before she realised it, she’d slipped one hand inside the robe, exploring her soft skin. She felt so much more aware of her fingertips than she’d ever been before, cool little circles exploring skin that had never been touched like this.

Estelle heard Rita make a small sound from the other side of the curtain, and Estelle’s attention jumped back to Rita and Judith. Judith was speaking again, “Now, you need to concentrate on learning everything you can about it, don’t you?”

“Mm…” Rita made a noise of agreement, and Estelle had to assume that Judith had moved on with her demonstration, because there was a slick, wet noise that made Estelle’s knees tremble. “Oh.” Rita spoke again, then there was quiet for a moment before she exclaimed, “Ah! That’s sensitive.”

“It is.” Judith purred; from her direction, Estelle could still hear warm, wet noises, and she felt her mouth going dry. Her fingers, frozen in place on her nipples, suddenly yearned to hold something firmer, something that didn’t belong to her. But how could she…

“So if I…” Rita’s voice wafted to her ears again, and Estelle felt a shot of warmth in her private area. “If I… do this with Estelle... she’ll enjoy it.”

 _‘Yes!’_ Estelle though again, clenching her thighs together as her knees trembled further, “Yes, please, Rita…”

“Estelle?” Oh no, had she spoken? Rita sounded like she was coming closer, and Estelle pried her eyes open just as Rita’s hands pulled the curtains apart. Rita had her robe pulled up around her waist and was bare beneath it; without thinking, Estelle put her hands around Rita’s hips and pulled her close, kissing her hotly.

“Oh.” Judith said idly, from her place in the cushions. Her fingers remained in her folds, still for the moment as she watched them.

Estelle had no trouble focusing her attention on Rita instead, running her fingers over Rita’s butt. “I want to learn this with you, Rita. Let’s learn it together. Please…” Her voice sounded breathy, and she didn’t know if her legs would keep working. She kissed Rita’s lips again, then again, not able to stop herself.

“But I…” Rita tried to protest, looking towards Judith and then back to Estelle, before pulling Estelle out into the middle of the room and sinking down onto the cushioned floor. “I don’t know…”

“Rita, I don’t care.” Estelle’s fingers travelled up to Rita’s face and she gazed into Rita’s eyes, knowing her cheeks were pink and refusing to worry about it. “I want to do this with you. We’ll find out what’s right for us as we go. Please.” She kissed Rita again. “Please.”

Rita opened her mouth, but closed it as Judith rose from her place, rolling her robe back down so it covered her area. She gave a neat bow from the waist, one hand out to one side, and said. “I will leave you now. Blessings on you.”

She slipped out of the room through another set of curtains, and when she did, Rita placed her hand on the side of Estelle’s face to reclaim her attention. Rita’s face was still red, but she was smiling, so Estelle smiled too. “All right. Let’s figure this out.”


	3. Vesperia/Destiny, Judith/Rutee: Temperature Play

“Hello? Anyone here?” In the entrance of the temple, Rutee stood with hands on hips, her bag slumping down on the floor and against her leg. There were no other people in sight—she could see nothing but benches, cushions, and curtains, and that didn’t match with what the blokes back on the mainland had told her.

_‘Yeah, plenty of folks out there in that place.’_ An old man had told her, pointing her towards a friend of his, waving from a skiff. _‘Lot of things they’d pay you good money for, and not all of them hard to give.’_

In hindsight, Rutee decided it had been more than a little foolish to set out for this dinky island without any more assurance than that, and she was just about to turn and troop back down the stairs when someone spoke.

“Welcome to Saint Judith’s. I’m Judith. Can I help you?”

Rutee turned back around, blinked, and stared; the woman was dressed in an extremely short, loose-fitting robe with a deep v-cut neckline. She was tall, with rich purple hair framing her face, and a flowing second pair of ears, blue and rabbit-like. She was easily one of the strangest people Rutee had ever seen.

But gald was gald, so Rutee stood her ground, nudging her satchel with one foot. “Word on the mainland is you have some odd jobs that need doing. Well I’m Rutee, and I’ll get them done. I’ve got some supplies for sale, too. Good stuff from a long way away. Interested?” She cocked a cheeky grin, as sunny as could be.

“I am interested.” Judith smiled deeply. “Come in, and show me your wares.”

For a saint, she seemed like an easy mark. Almost too easy… but Rutee didn’t have long to be suspicious. Judith spoke again and suddenly there was white fabric being pressed into Rutee’s hands. “Sorry, I almost forgot. You’ll need to wear this. House rules.”

Rutee blinked again. “I’m not staying long.”

Judith shrugged, the fabric of her robe shifting over her breasts. “Those are the rules. I’ll definitely be paying you, so it’s up to you what you choose, merchant Rutee.”

This was seeming more and more strange. Rutee hefted her bag and took the clothing, allowing herself to be led into a small private room. She turned towards the wall that looked the most solid and stripped out of her clothing, sliding into the newly-provided robes. After settling the garments in place, she ran her hands over them, then roughly tore the curtains open. “Is this some kind of joke?!”

Judith cocked her head to one side. “What do you mean, joke?”

Rutee indicated her clothing, a pair of loose, tied shorts and a shapely cropped top, both in that light white fabric like what Judith was wearing. “This looks just like my normal clothing.”

“But it’s white.” Judith lifted one finger and winked.

“That’s…” Rutee began, but gave up. It was more important that she make the sale. This saint was obviously crazy.

“That’s the rules.” Judith tittered, mostly to herself, and gestured for Rutee to follow her. As Rutee navigated the corridors, she thought she could hear other voices from behind curtains, and wished she could stop to try engaging with someone other than this madwoman. Just as she was wondering how _far_ this hallway could go, it opened into an expansive internal atrium, bright with sunlight and with different areas cordoned off by benches and curtains.

Rutee couldn’t believe how many women were here; she’d read the tablet at the entrance, but this was beginning to feel like a place that couldn’t be real. She pinched herself just to be sure she wasn’t dreaming.

Judith happened to choose that moment to glance back over her shoulder, and smiled that myserious smile again. “I promise it’s a real place. It’s my little paradise.”

Rutee tried and failed to keep her gaze from fixing on a woman that was almost certainly wearing nothing but a long skirt. She was moving in wide, lengthy steps around a great fire, motioning with her hands in fine, complex gestures as she did. Her hair was longer than it had any right to be, silver until about midway down her back and then shot through with red. Rutee blinked several times to make sure she wasn’t a part of the fire itself.

“Oh, I see. Come on.” Judith laid her hand gently on Rutee’s wrist; Rutee jumped but couldn’t find it in herself to pull away. Instead, she let herself be led to the fire’s side, and settled down into cushions. The woman who’d been dancing around the fire seemed to have disappeared, leaving only Judith to keep Rutee company.

“So.” Rutee started, opening and closing her mouth twice more before she stumbled further, “So, I have here—”

Judith shook her head, kneeling down and resting on her heels. Her smile was wide this time, and she extracted a coin from between her breasts.

_‘That couldn’t have been there the whole time.’_ Rutee thought to herself, watching as Judith rolled it across her fingers and then held it between them. After a second, she dropped it, and Rutee caught it in midair.

“I’m going to give you as much gald as you can take.”

Rutee sat forward in a hurry, startled. “You’re what?”

“I’m going to give you as much gald as you can take.” Judith repeated, drawing a coin from a stack that had appeared beside her. Rutee realised they were faintly coated in condensation, and swallowed hard. “But you have to earn them.”

“What do I need to do?” Rutee asked, feeling both like she’d been tricked into the and like she knew the answer. Where both would usually bother her, this time, she didn’t feel irritated. _‘They must have something in the air.’_ She insisted to herself, watching as Judith slowly lowered the coin to her skin.

When it was millimetres above her, she realised it was cold.

Judith pressed it into the soft flesh just beneath her collarbone.

Rutee hissed and clenched her fists; it was fucking freezing! Judith held it in place until Rutee lifted one fist from the ground and peeled the coin off herself, grinning as she held it tightly. “Is that all you’ve got, Saint Judith?”

“Oh no.” Judith grinned too, selecting a new coin from a different stack, which also seemed to have appeared from no where. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

Rutee sat back, legs splayed apart and indicating her chest with her fingers. “Try me.”


	4. Zestiria, Alisha/Edna: Shame Play, Oral

In the centre of a recessed square in the floor, Alisha Dipha knelt on a mat and concentrated on the feeling of weave pressing into her bare knees. There was no other way to describe her emotions: she was nervous. Excited, too, but full of tension, and she kept her gaze neutrally downcast and waited. Her thighs quivered against each other as she tried to ignore the wispy draft playing in the space between her legs. It made her want to move more than anything else.

This was her first time visiting the temple, but Maltran had assured her it would be well worth the journey. Unable to do anything else, Alisha exhaled slowly and pushed her fingers into her knees, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. Surely, it would start soon. She didn’t know how much longer she could wait.

They’d been greeted by Saint Judith herself upon arrival; she was a beautiful woman, with a smile that made Alisha’s knees go watery and gently shifting breasts that reminded her of Maltran’s. It had been difficult to keep eyes to herself, and Maltran had caught her looking, too. Maltran seemed at ease as she explained what services they’d come to enjoy; Alisha, forcing herself to study her knees rather than get caught staring again, had felt the weight of Judith’s gaze throughout the conversation. It wasn’t until Judith asked her if this was what she wanted that Alisha spoke.

“Yes.” Alisha hadn’t hesitated, looking up to meet those twinkling violet eyes with determination. “Of course it is.”

“Alisha.” 

The sound of a stranger’s voice snapped her back into the present. Alisha opened her eyes to see a pair of boots just a step in front of her. The sight made her tremble.

The voice-bearer cleared her throat and tapped one heel against the floor. “That’s you, right?”

“Yes.” Alisha murmured, dipping her head without otherwise changing her position.

“Good.” The woman stomped her foot down heavily and placed her hands on her hips. “But shouldn’t you call me Master?”

That was… Alisha dared to glance to the couch drawn to the edge of the square, desperate for Maltran’s eye. Maltran lay long and lean across the couch, one arm resting along her hip with fingers just tucked into the high slit of her long robes. The corner of her lip twitched, and all she did was incline her chin.

“Y-yes, Master.” Alisha stuttered, bowing her head low and watching her hair tumble forward. She could feel the vibrations in the floor as the woman stalked a slow, prowling circle around her. She started to turn her head, but the woman snapped.

“Stay still. Don’t move.”

“Yes master.” Alisha repeated, biting her lower lip for a second time. How shameful, that she was already anticipating what was going to happen to her. How embarrassing, that her labia were almost certainly peeking into view beneath the short hem of her robe. How, _oh_ , and a shiver ran through her.

“I _said_ —” There was a sharp rap across the length of her back, and Alisha yelped in surprise. “Don’t move.”

“Edna, please.” Maltran’s voice, deep and sumptuous, set warmth rushing straight to her pelvis. She felt her cheeks glow pink with shame, and squeezed her muscles as tight as she could to keep herself from moving. The name didn’t matter—she would say Master, nothing else.

Edna made a noise of disapproval in her throat, then traced the tip of her object up the line of Alisha’s legs. From her ankle up the side of her calf, then from her knee to her buttocks, then up the center of her back, making Alisha’s breathing come harder and heavier. Edna slowed to a halt in front of Alisha and dangled the object within her line of sight so Alisha could see it was a paper-and-bamboo parasol.

She dared a quick, upward glance: Edna was smirking. That made her shiver, only this time Edna didn’t scold her; instead, Edna slowly slid the parasol down her front, between her breasts until the tip of it rested just above the hem of her robe. Pressing it lightly against a spot that made Alisha want to moan, Edna leaned forward and cooed, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Alisha nodded briefly, afraid of the sounds that would come out of her mouth if she opened it. Edna tapped her chin with a finger, scolding, “Tell me.”

“Yes master.” Alisha exhaled, edging her hips forward just the slightest, “Please.”

“You’ll have to earn it.” Edna carefully slid the parasol back and forth, catching it under the hem of Alisha’s robe and tickling at the edge of her pubic hair. “Are you ready to do that?”

“Yes master.” Alisha repeated, quicker this time; she felt herself blush hot at the words coming from her lips, “I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Anything, huh?” Edna rapped the parasol between Alisha’s legs, making her jump. “Let’s get started, then.”

From the direction where the couch was, Alisha heard Maltran’s throaty chuckle. It was the noise she held in her heart when Edna directed her to lie on her back and then settled herself over Alisha’s mouth. It was the noise she filled her ears with as she tongued, kissed, and sucked on Edna’s lips, and the noise she imagined Maltran making as Maltran licked her face clean.

It was the noise she wanted to hear, over and over, every day.


	5. Berseria/Zestiria, Teresa/Symonne: Sadomasochism

“Why are you here?” Teresa’s voice was firm and cool, but Symonne’s attention was caught by the rhythmic sound of the folded whip repeatedly striking her palm.

Completely naked, with her wrists bound above her on a thick wooden pole stuck into the ground, Symonne shifted and hissed, “I need to repent.”

“Why?”

There was dirt beneath her knees and feet, and she dug her toes into it to control her excitement. No matter how many times they played this game, there was always something new to enjoy: Teresa lost more of her temper, Teresa gave in more to her true nature, Teresa herself enjoyed it more. Such utter _delights_ , Symonne chuckled to herself, pressing her body up against the wood in anticipation as she spoke her answer, “I supported the Lord of Calamity.”

The whip bit into her back and Symonne cried out before dissolving into shuddering laughter, digging her fingers into the wood as shivers overtook her body. When she could peel her eyes open, she glanced over her shoulder and saw the fire in Teresa’s eyes—a fire that did nothing but stoke Symonne’s excitement.

“You’d do it again?” Teresa demanded, the whip twitching around her feet like a snake about to strike.

“Yes.” Symonne replied, shrieking in both pain and delight when the whip struck her back. “Again and again!” She shouted, each word earning her another crack of the whip. Her back burned, but not as hot as the look in Teresa’s eyes. Symonne writhed desperately, whimpering her need; she could feel wetness creeping down her thighs. The pain was so good.

“How many times?” Teresa asked; her voice had gone molten and thick, the sign that she herself was beginning to lose herself in the game. Symonne imagined how her nipples would be rebelling against her the fall of her robes and how hot Teresa would be getting between her legs. Symonne drew her lip into her mouth, muscles quivering.

“A hundred times.” Symonne promised, “A thousand.”

The whip sang. Over and over it struck her, her fingers scrabbling for purchase in the wood and her body twitching and convulsing without control. Her shoulders blazed with ache, her wrists were bruised raw and her back was on fire—over and over, until the whipping suddenly stopped. Symonne felt liquid oozing down her back and sagged against the wood, boneless and lustful.

The next thing she felt were claws, strong and hard, crushing into her shoulders. She gasped in surprise and tilted her head back to meet Teresa’s mis-matched eyes. One green and one red focused on her like an animal in heat, and Symonne wished she could move her hands to clutch the carapace covering Teresa’s arms.

“Is that all, Symonne?” Teresa asked, her teeth stark white next to the black marking lining her cheek. Her voice was deeper than before, full of dark promises Symonne dearly wanted to tease out of her.

Symonne felt the laughter bubble up inside her and burst out; she twisted up into Teresa’s claws and sighed with deep pleasure, full of anticipation. “As many times as it takes,” She murmured, breath hitching as Teresa’s claws inched further into her skin, “for the whole world to fall into ruin.”

Teresa bit down on the back of her neck, and Symonne screamed.


End file.
